


The Dread Wolf's Solace

by Aelevox



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Between end of main game to end of Trespasser, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelevox/pseuds/Aelevox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan must learn to endure the sudden disappearance of her beloved, but her dreams always seem to take her back to those painfully intimate moments.  Solas finds himself drawn to these memories as well, and his meddling in them only brings Lavellan closer to revelations, both of Solas and herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dread Wolf's Solace

Haven was probably the last place that Lavellan wanted to be. But he had taken her here nonetheless and remained as mysterious as ever. Of course, it was that air of mystery that drew her to him. One would think that with all the unknown already surrounding and shaping her life, she wouldn’t even consider going for something like this in the midst of it all.

Nevertheless, here she was, following him through a still Haven.

Snow drifted down from the overcast sky, landing softly on the ground until a plump blanket of white was laid out; disturbed only by the gentle and somehow satisfying crunch of the two characters trudging through. Warm glows emanated from fire pits, torches and candles. It still had that feeling of a makeshift war camp, no longer a village but a fortress. No longer a “haven”, but a reminder of what was lost.

Lavellan found herself rather annoyed about being back. It was in her voice when they first arrived, and still she questioned why they were here of all places. Her discomfort only grew as she gazed around. The whole area, with its snow and glow, seemed shrouded with a certain peculiarity. It had an odd feeling, mixed with abandonment and solemnity. Nothing stirred within the houses or tents, or the tavern. There was no clash of iron against iron as soldiers sparred from beyond the main gate. No clink from the hammer pounding a new weapon or piece of armor into existence. No songs, no chatter, nothing. Just complete and utter emptiness.

She followed him down into the dungeon. Interesting, she thought, hoping in the back of her mind that he wasn’t into that sort of thing. But when they came upon the spot it had all began for her, he recalled the time she had been unconscious, imprisoned, and had a strange mark growing larger with each passing moment. She went along with it just to hear him speak.

When all was said and done, he took her back outside and gazed up at the Breach, very green and ominous. He told her how he had felt those first days in the camp and she hung onto every word. She adored the sound of his voice, the lilt of his subtle accent, the spark and also sadness in his eyes, and how he accentuated his wonder by taking a step forward, his stance now opened, and reaching out one hand to the sky as if to grasp it.

When he told her how he felt the world change when he was with her, she melted inside. No one from the clan had made her feel this way and she found it simply astounding. However, at the same time, she was unsure of how to proceed. After all, no one from the clan had made her feel this way before. She looked away shyly. Both of them did. It was then that she decided to try something she was sure she would feel silly about. But as she turned to kiss him…

…Solas was gone.

Every emotion filled Lavellan, every memory stabbed back into her, from that moment to the last when Corypheus was defeated and Leliana’s news that the man she had come to love had disappeared without a trace. She remembered his final approval of the relationship, only to end it that one night in the glen after stripping her face bare. She remembered the frustration afterwards, trying to get him to talk, trying to get him to answer a simple, one-worded question: why? Most of all, she remembered his very last words to her before he left:

_No matter what comes, I want you to know that what we had was real._

Lavellan crumbled in on herself. She knew now that she was in the fade, dreaming, wishing for this day, this moment back. But none of this was real. How could she be sure anything had been real?

Something moved in the right corner of her eye. Her head snapped in the direction of the main gate. On impulse, she followed, running to catch a glimpse of whatever manner of beast this was. Perhaps it was a demon. Something else to feast on her heart.

She reached the edge of the frozen lake when she finally got a full view of it – a large white wolf, white as the surrounding pillows of snow. It was running away from her, crossing the vast sheet. When it reached halfway, it slowed to a trot and turned to look back at her. Only two words came to mind as its eyes met hers.

Dread Wolf.

~***~

The time since Solas had left was spent with a hearty amount of reading, training and wicked grace. Anything to keep her mind busy. Not pondering the whats, wheres and whys, or the unfinished fresco left in the rotunda.

For many nights Lavellan would wake from a dreamless sleep, gasping. The cold would blanket around and she would sit in her bed, knees to chest, shivering. Feel nothing, she would tell herself, wanting to hate him for that apathetic mask he wore. However, in the end she found it all too easy to put one on herself. More armor protected her not just in battle. It shielded a heart that she was scared to lose, hands that were afraid to touch, feet that were frightened to dance.

One night, Dorian had wandered in to check on her. He found her standing on the balcony, freezing to the touch. She had insisted that she wasn’t cold. Not anymore. But from then on, servants came around throughout the night to tend to the hearth and keep the fire going. When Varric found her awake, he would regale her with silly stories he either heard or made up. Sera would bring in a batch of her terrible cookies, chatting nonsense, and managing to keep herself from saying what a piss-arse Egghead was. Iron bull would challenge her with drinking until she passed out. Sometimes Leliana and Josephine would stay up with her, gossiping. During the day, Dorian would give her new books to read. Cullen would play a game of chess. Cassandra would spar. Blackwall would show her his wood crafting. And Viviane would invite her to salon after salon. Cole was somewhere among all that, doing little things that put a small smile on her face.

Not once did Lavellan cry or sulk or distance herself. But everyone felt the need to keep her mind busy – they understood in their own personal ways what it was like to bury something deep within themselves. However, the night visits soon became fewer, the daily interactions a constant motion. She was able to sleep thanks to exhaustion.

Until now, however.

Even with the fire still going in the hearth, she always felt an unshakable coldness, one that seemed to emanate from a chasm in her heart. It was abysmal like those in the Deep Roads, the bottom unknown. It had been such a long time since she’d really thought of him – his face, that slight smile, the way his words often flowed like poetry. He had never really let her in, never let her see past that polite façade. What did she really know about him? He was a mage; associated with elves but hadn’t fit in with the Dalish; traveled the fade; detested tea; friendly with spirits. His was name Solas…maybe. Sometimes she wondered if he had actually been real.

Siting up in bed, she rubbed her eyes, briefly pinched the bridge of her nose, then swung her legs over the side and stood up. At her desk, she found the tome on Avvar customs – she’d be going to the Frostback basin soon. Determined to distract herself, she sat down and flipped to the page she had been on. In the back of her mind, she could still hear his voice.

_…The path I now must walk in solitude forever._

_This fate is mine alone._

_I would not wish it on an enemy, much less someone that I once cared for._

_No matter what happens…_

What was going to happen?

Lavellan’s head began to whirl, trying frantically to put together the pieces of a puzzle that didn’t want to be solved. There had to be a reason for his disappearance. What could he possibly be doing, where could he be going? Why couldn’t he tell her any of it? They had gotten so close, yet he had always been so far, and now more than ever. _No matter what happens_ , he said. Could their paths cross once again? _The path I now must walk…_

“…in solitude. Like that night in the glen after he left. Hands caressing a covered face. Eyes light up and he smiles. You are beautiful. Bare. Barely Bold. But being brave because –”

“Cole,” she said firmly, her heart pounding.

“Private moment, I assume,” Dorian leaned against the desk, watching her with that same look of concern when he wondered if the rumors of their friendship bothered her.

“It’s… yes, private.” Placing the book down, she sighed back into her chair. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I was waiting to see if perhaps you were sleeping with your eyes open.”

Lavellan snorted, “If only I had such a feat, I could get through so many of Viviane’s salons sitting in the corner looking inquisitorially.”

“I believe Cullen has already taken the job of standing around to look pretty.” The truth of that made her smile.

Cole looked up, “It is good to see you smile.”

She stared off into the distance, her lips curved. When she looked back at the two watching her, she sighed, “Thank you for coming up here. There really was no need. It was a just a dream.”

“A dream? I think not. Dreams are warm and fuzzy, they don’t keep you up at night. What you had was a nightmare.” A look of disgust crossed Dorian’s face as he recalled the Nightmare demon.

Lavellan shook her head, “It wasn’t a nightmare. It…It was a memory. With Solas.”

“Haven. Empty, but familiar. We already talked about that. His voice resonates in the dungeon, words like lyrium wondering at the Breach. Then pause. Hesitation, brief, then turn. Gone, but something else. Dread Wolf.”

Dorian looked at her, “We should really have him around when interrogating someone.”

“Iron Bull already thought of it…” She looked away.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. There’s really nothing to talk about.” Dorian stared as she kept her eyes averted, losing herself in thought again. He opened his mouth, stopping short of whatever he was going to say. Finally. He stood and headed for the door.

“Come on, Cole. I’ll have someone send up some tea.”

However, when someone did manage to hurry up those steps with a boiling cup of tea, they would find the room empty. Anyone who knew anything about Lavellan, knew they could find her in the rotunda at times like these, studying the unfinished mural on the wall. In fact, if Dorian had managed to pull his nose from a book on the elven gods, he would have seen Lavellan bashing her head against the wall trying to figure out what her long lost love had left.

Why hadn’t he said goodbye?

There was so much more to it than simply leaving. It drove her insane to think about it, to consider it, whatever it was, because the gods knew she didn’t know. And –

Gods. Elven gods, the Creators, the one’s that had disappeared. She had met Mythal, so… She had been all caught up in Solas that she never considered the other part of her dream. The Dread Wolf. If Mythal was still around, then Fen’Harel had to be as well. Which meant that he must have caught her scent.

Lavellan walked over to Solas’ old desk and began composing a letter to Keeper Deshanna. In it she relayed the part of the dream where she chased a wolf and the moment they had made eye contact she had known just what kind of wolf it was. The dreaded kind. She probably wouldn’t sleep until she received a reply, or it would at least be a restless sleep as she tried to stay away from dreaming. The whole ordeal made her think of Solas again. She remembered walking into his rotunda and finding him drinking tea. He hadn’t wanted to dream, much like her now.

She looked over at the mural again. By this time the poor servant with the tea had finally found her, thankful she was still within the main complex of Skyhold. However, the tea was something to help her sleep which, at the servant’s dismay, was not what she wanted to do, so he was sent to bed with a sincere apology and a promise to grab some caffeinated tea from the kitchens herself.

The fresco once again her focus, she examined it with the same longing for an answer. There was a giant wolf looking thing standing over a small dragon slain by a sword. The wolf perhaps meant the Inquisition, its size a reflection of its influence. After all, Solas had depicted the inquisition as a pack of wolves in a previous painting. The dragon could represent Corypheus, dwindled down to a small dragon as they slowly chiseled away his power. Therefore, the Inquisition had slain Corypheus. And he hadn’t finished it because Corypheus’ attack was sudden.

But she wanted to belief there was something else, that there was something more than what she was seeing. Not getting anywhere, she turned around to head to the kitchens. It would be a long night. To her surprise, she found a cup of freshly brewed tea sitting on the desk. A small smile curved the corner of her lips.

“Thank you, Cole.”

~***~

Rage. Sorrow. All mixed up together, swirling, emanating. It was a side of him she wasn’t used to seeing. She let them die in their ignorance.

She wanted to be there with him. Wisdom had so easily been turned to pride, and saved only to fade. He said that he will endure, but he didn’t seem to realize that he didn’t have to grieve alone. He turns to leave…

…Don’t go.

The cold air from the mountaintops send a chill wind that gusts past them on the balcony. She reaches out, holds him back.

_It would be kinder in the long run._

_But losing you would…_

Lips touch fiercely, press together longingly. Satisfaction finally.

_Ar Lath Ma, Vhenan._ I love you, Heart.

She watches him leave, sighing. Smiling. Sighing and smiling. Happy for once in so long. Walking through the doorway…

…She apologizes, his face broken as he picks up the shattered remnants of the orb. He turns to her. _It is not your fault._ They call for her and she turns to leave, unknowing…

…Nightingale follows her up the steps. She frowns. The two of you were close. Not really, she wants to say. You saw more than most, she hears in an echo. Looking out over the crowd in hopes of perhaps seeing him, she sighs, about to turn, but then…

There amidst the joyous crowd, a blur of white rushes out through the main gate. Lavellan’s first impulse is to pursue, leaping from the stairs and pushing through the mass until they melt away and it’s only her and the wolf.

The chase went on, hunter and prey. Her lungs should have burned, legs ached, but she needed to know. They came to a cobblestone bridge when he stopped and turned. Charging forward, her quarry in sight, just in arm’s reach when the ground below gave way. He watched as she fell, grasping helplessly as everything broke apart into darkness. Silvery blue light erupted below her. Looking down, she saw an eluvian activated and opening, ready to swallow her whole. Closing her eyes, she braced herself.

She felt herself hit the ground, but there was no impact. It was a simple realization that she was laying on solid matter. Pushing herself up, she saw the familiar graveyard on the moist, uneven ground of the fade. In front of her was Solas’ headstone, his greatest fear carved across the surface: Dying Alone. Lavellan clenched her fists, the nails digging crescents into her palms.

Then why leave? Why enter a path alone when you knew I would follow you anywhere? Why forsake our relationship, leave me in the dark, haunt my dreams and waking thoughts? Why did you let it go so far only to tear it apart?

She wanted to scream it all. Scream at him.

Vhenan’ara…

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the shift in the air. Afraid to open them again, to see where she was now. But he called, urging her.

_Why are you here?_

The first thing she saw was the blue light from the veil fire torch standing amidst the snow covered ground. As her eyes adjusted, she saw him, first his outline, then his face glowing in the light. It was a familiar scene. His words, however, were not part of the memory.

Vhenan, he whispered, a hand reaching out to caress her bare cheek. He waited patiently as she hesitated to pull in closer, eyes unsure and full of the pain that he had caused. He watched as she looked everywhere but his eyes, feeling her tension slowly soften in his arms. Finally, she looked up, doubt still there, but hope as well.

Solas?

Her eyes met his, and for a second he wanted to give in. Say yes, emma lath. Ir tel’him. But he steeled himself.

Lavellan gazed into those sad eyes, feeling for once safe. As she was about to smile, he changed. Man became wolf, and she found herself staring into those dreaded eyes again. But it was different. They were so close. Nose to nose. And it was growling. Its great maw opened bearing sharp fangs that lunged toward her.

And all she could do was scream.

~***~

Lavellan jerked awake, sliding off the canapé in the rotunda and hitting the floor with a thud. Unlike her fall in fade, she felt a dull ache and shock in her side, as well as a brief pain from the edge of the canapé digging into her back. She stood up posthaste, shaking her head as if that would help to clear it. Instead, her mind swam in numbness as her vision darkened and blurred. She swayed as the lightheaded feeling retreated. When gone, she rubbed her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. It had been so long since she’d gotten a decent sleep.

Of course, dreams like these were what she was trying to prevent. She much rather preferred the ones with the Nug King visiting Skyhold along with his many, many children. All of them hopping about wreaking havoc for Josephine and Cullen was a far more favorable dream to… whatever this Dread Wolf thing was.

She sighed, walking over to the center desk and picking up a letter. Solas had turned into the wolf, or the wolf had tricked her into thinking it was him. It could all be nothing but another weird dream, and yet…

She looked at the parchment in her hand: a reply from Keeper Deshanna. Fen’Harel ma ghilana. That’s what the Keeper thought. Just wait until she sees my face, Lavellan thought bitterly.

It felt strange to think about how long she had been away from her clan. Her whole life had changed, two whole nations depended on her. She had tried to fit in time to visit Clan Lavellan in Wycome, but when she finally managed to schedule a few weeks of travel, she thought of Solas.

How was she going to explain the disappearance of her Vallaslin?

She didn’t want them to think she had forsaken the clan, but neither did she feel they would understand the reason behind why she let it happen. So, she wrote letters instead that were simple how-are-yous. Her question about The Dread Wolf was the first to make her Keeper worry. Deshanna was even more insistent in this letter that she visit.

In other words, the letter hadn’t been of much use. The Keeper just told her the same old stories that she’d heard since she was child; nothing about how to get the wolf off her trail.

Lavellan thought about this most recent dream. Her chase with the wolf and then… She frowned, eyebrows furrowed. Her initial dream had led to her chasing the wolf as well.

Fen’Harel ma ghilana. She was following the wolf. Not the other way around.

And in those dreams was Solas, who she was also looking for. Was it connected? Could trying to find him be leading her on the wrong path? She didn’t want to think that, didn’t want to consider that the brief path they had treaded together had separated indefinitely.

She slumped in his old chair with a heavy sigh, mumbling, “Ir souveri.”

So tired. So done with the world and all its problems.

Sometimes she considered her role as Inquisitor to be like Abelas guarding the Temple of Mythal. Halam’shivanas: the sweet sacrifice of duty. She thought of the Inquisitor before her. Ameridan. How he had given up everything for his duty, even though it was thrust upon him. Both elven men had endured. And so would she, whether for a little while longer, or for eternity.

~***~

_Quickly, before more come through!_ He grabs her marked hand, thrusting it toward the spiraling rift. A connection locks and she can feel the tear slowly close, like struggling to pull a heavy door shut. Once sealed, she breaks away, glaring at him.

Another elf, she notes. Not alone…

…He saunters forward, igniting the torch ahead with blue veil fire. He guides her so she can guide them…

…Bright green light flashes as he recalls that first moment, two hands rising together. He turns back, the corners of his lips curved in the slightest smile.

_And right then, I felt the whole world change._

_You change… everything._

Sweet talker.

A shy moment of hesitation. Then she dares to steal a kiss. Tingling sweetness dances on her lips. He claims revenge by stealing a kiss for himself.

_We shouldn’t. It isn’t right. Not even here._

But he teases her nonetheless…

_…It’s been so long since I could trust anyone._

I know…

…He brings her to the balcony questioning her nervously, unsure eyes shifting.

_You are not what I expected._

Everyone says that, she thought. So what does this mean?

_It means I have not forgotten the kiss._

She steps closer, this time teasing him. But he turns – why? Don’t go. He shakes his head.

_It would be kinder in the long run. But losing you would…_ He swoops around, taking ahold of her waist, the decision made. Lips press, arms pull bodies closer. The sensation begins again, more intense, the tingling becoming a fiery burn, sweetness lingering as he breaks away.

_Ar Lath Ma, Vhenan…_

…Music floats out from the ballroom onto the balcony. She takes a deep breath of the chill winter air as he joins her. I’m enjoying the moment of peace while it lasts. His voice carries his smile.

_You should. They are fleeting enough._

_Hang on to them when you can._

He holds out his hand. As she takes it, he pulls her close, spins her around…

…He looks down with _love_ in his eyes, caressing her cheek. Mist surround them, cold but he keeps her warm with his presence.

_You are unique. In all of Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined._

He reveals a painful truth, but offers solace. She accepts.

They kneel, facing each other. Raising his hands to her face, blue light glows, sparks, as he works his magic slowly, unmasking another truth. She is afraid. Frightened not only of the bare face exposed, but the fear buried deep within because everyone is counting on her to bear their burdens. Hesitant, she looks away. When her eyes look up again, he smiles. A smile that melts away all the dread and brings her into this moment.

_You are so beautiful._

The words are in his voice, his smile, his eyes, and they ignite. Once again, her lips burn and she tastes his sweet words in her mouth, losing herself in the suppressed inferno rising up between them until –

Stop!

Something clutches Lavellan’s heart. Not fear, but a knowing pain, a hollow ache as she looks up into his face, frozen in the second he tore away. His eyes hold so much more than love now. They hold sorrow and hurt and regret. Guilt and shame.

Shaking her head, she hugs him and holds on tight not wanting the memories to end in the foreboding agony. She held him, searching for some solidity, form, heartbeat; anything to prove this was more than just a dream.

But there was nothing.

Even as she squeezed her arms around him, there was nothing tangible to be found. The tear in her heart throbbed. She stepped back, looking away into the pool beside them. She imagined herself beneath the calming ripples, holding her breath to still the raging torrent inside, ease the ache to feel nothing, clear a mind that thought too much.

Exhale.

She wanted to close her eyes as the moment moved again, but her mouth and body painfully dragged the memory along.

_You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world –_

Why not this one?

_I can’t. I’m sorry._

Gone.

The memory faded to black as he walked away, leaving her alone in the dark and cold mist of that glen. Lavellan clenched her fists, digging the nails in, hardening herself. As an impenetrable darkness surrounded her, she felt its presence grow closer.

She turned to face the Dread Wolf.

At first, it looked pained, a sadness in his eyes that she almost didn’t want to accept. It implied too much. But when the wolf noticed her stare, it steeled, guarding. It growled. Fierce, showing its teeth. It lurched forward, but she didn’t flinch. One moment its sharp fangs were about to wrap around her skull, the next it was back where it had been, growling lower with its failure to scare her.

I’m not afraid, she whispered to herself.

The wolf stilled, perked ears replacing the snarling grin.

I am not afraid, she said, louder.

Reveling in its look of interest, she pushed on.

You do not frighten me, Fen’harel. I am the Inquisitor. I ended a self-proclaimed god. I faced Hakkon Wintersbreath. I slayed the guardian of a Titan. And I endure the worst pain imaginable to anyone: the loss of my heart.

It seemed to flinch at her final words, backing away.

With that established, she approached the Dread Wolf and knelt before it, ready to perhaps listen. To learn. She reached out and brushed a hand over its glowing white coat. Elf met wolf in a furtive stare that gave way to a familiar gaze. The soft ghost of a caress. The taste of sweet fire.

Lavellan gasped.

He nodded to her, respectfully, before turning around to leave.

~***~

Lavellan stood in front of the hearth in her room, arms wrapped around herself in a hug, trying to shake the unshakeable chill she always felt now. She took a step back, noticing how close she was. Catching on fire wasn’t going to help. Maybe.

_My Heart._

Still dreaming then, she sighed.

_Why do you say that?_ She could hear the amused teasing in his voice. It pulled at her heart. Turning around, her eyes took him in. Solas seemed a bit more real, not just a memory. She suppressed the urge to go to him, hold him close, and never let go again. He met her eyes, the same urge in them. Something lurked beneath the surface. Something… different, dark, odd. They stood still, lost in their own thoughts, their own separate pain.

Why are you here?

_Am I? As you say, this is a dream._ The teasing tugged harder.

Was this? Was she simply hoping for something more?

_Why are you here?_

Her eyes narrowed, body tensing. This is my dream.

He dismissed this with a wave around the room. _But you could be dreaming about anything. You could be dreaming about the Nug King and his nug children. Instead, you dwell on memories when you should be moving on._

I can’t move on. She hugged herself tighter.

_You could be out there exploring the world._

You could come back, she urged.

_You could discover old ruins and history._

Shut up. She bite her lip as another tug ripped at her heart.

_Corypheus is dead. I… am gone._

No. She shook her head, the pain edging on unbearable.

_Ar lasa mala revas._

Banal’revas! Lavellan burst, ignoring another tug on her heart and Solas’ stunned silence. You think leaving me made me free when you still haunt my thoughts and dreams? What do you want me to say? You left without a goodbye. You said you would tell me everything after Corypheus was defeated, but you lied. You tore me apart, left me cold and alone, and you now you want me to simply move on? Ar melava lath ma! I still do…

Memories flashed before both of them. All the spoken words, all the intense feelings, the intimate moments. The joy, the laughter, the support; love, pain, sadness, despair. Then it was just them, a rift between. Their gazes locked, and for a brief moment there was a reflecting agony. His façade was faltering.

_I…_ He steeled himself. _I’m sorry._

Her hope broke. Her control, her voice, her heart, it all broke. It all fell to pieces in front of him. And it broke him inside to see her crumble to the floor, all her buried rage and pain and tears breaking her apart. He watched, his mask fixed.

Tell me you don’t care, she pleaded.

He stood firm.

Tell me it wasn’t real, she cried.

_I’m sorry._

Lavellan studied his face. It stayed still and apathetic, but there was the clear tension in his jaw as he clenched it. Then her gaze drifted down to see the fragile pieces of a broken girl huddled in on herself. She watched as the girl begged for the pain in her chest to subside. But it never would.

She made a choice, like she had been since this all began. She took the pathetic girl before her and made her fade. Buried her deep, deep within along with all the memories, the feelings, the longing. When that girl was nothing but a shadow, Solas blinked. His eyes looked up at her, face rigid. He watched her now, interest peaked at her resolute expression.

I will keep searching.

But… I have better things to do right now. She turned away.

_Mana._ His hand twitched, but he had given up long before ever trying to reach out. She turned her head ever so slightly, not quite looking back.

I’m tired of waiting.

I’m sorry.

~***~

Lavellan had woken up feeling… strange. It had been the first in a long time that her heart’s wrenching wasn’t overbearing. Sitting up in bed, she concentrated, feeling a dull ache. It was brief though, the sensation pushed down once again. As time passed, she slowly forgot that the ache was even there. In fact, she had believed it to be completely gone and commissioned a small statue of Fen’harel that she kept on her desk as a reminder, facing the bed.

Lavellan thought of that wolf statue now, two years later, as she looked up at the man looming there, her brow furrowed in pain. Dread prickled like lightning against her skin.

“I suspect you have questions.”


End file.
